princess noun
by FroggyFeet
Summary: A title is not a definition. A crown doesn't make a girl into a woman. Never judge a lady by her Armani.


Zelda growled.

It was ungraceful, crude and made Peach gasp. It made Ganon frown. It make Link turn and stare, whereas it make the typically stoic Ike grin like an idiot. It was maybe a second later that an enchanted fist connected with Ganon's jaw. He fell back a few feet, rubbed his face, and looked back around. He would have said something sarcastic, but Zelda was already there. Her other fist met his face again, and before she could throw another punch Samus had grabbed her around the waist and hauled her away.

The other smashers just watched as the bounty hunter bundled the princess from the main hall. It was meant to be a welcoming party for the smashing contestants, but then Ganon opened his mouth. He pointed out that once again, he had captured Zelda. Well, he didn't, his little pet Zant did it instead. If such a 'puny existence' could catch a princess, then anyone could. She retaliated in kind. Samus kicked open the door to Zelda's bedroom. They rarely ever changed rooms in the mansion, Master hand only added wings to accommodate the newcomers, but veterans like Link, Mario and such had permanent quarters here.

"Let go of me!"

"Not until you calm down!"

Zelda's eyes flashed, and her fists waved, but then she was rigid, still as a board, and Samus put her down rather gingerly. "I know Ganon deserved it, but Jesus, Zelda! You didn't have to crush his face!" Samus folded her arms, but Zelda looked unapologetic.

"I am tired of being treated like a damsel! You get captured a few times and suddenly people forget that you're a fighter!"

Zelda threw her delicate crown onto the bedside table, threw her gloves in a thick ball into an inconspicuous corner, tore the beautiful pauldrons off and threw them against the wardrobe. She was about to hurl her bow out of the window. Only Samus' hands catching her wrists stopped her.

"Then prove them wrong."

Zelda simply glowered at the other woman.

"And how, pray tell, do I do that Sam?"

The leggy blonde just grinned.

* * *

"She **what**?"

Samus simply shrugged, but Marth looked livid. "How could you let her do this! What if she gets hurt?" Marth ranted and ranted, but Samus was ignoring him, instead dutifully scribbling a signature on a waiver form. Samus lazily rolled her eyes to him, "Have some faith in the girl, Marth."

Marth's mouth curled in an ugly frown, "faith doesn't keep people alive, Sam."

* * *

Zelda screamed.

The wraith exploded in flames, fell backwards off the stage and plummeted into the abyss below Final Destination. Her hands glowed in the dark, magic wreathing most of her in its ethereal gleam. Absently, she whirled around, planting one of her enchanted fists into the guts of another of the green wraiths. They were constructs of some sort, but Zelda didn't really pay much attention to their aesthetics. The name of the game was simple.

Conquer the battlefield.

The crowd was howling, and the wraiths were bundling and twisting in her peripheral, but she just felt the magic flow. How her feet crushed blue skulls, how her hands tore red chests asunder. Nayru's love consumed her, and the wraiths that had lumbered around her were shredded by the onslaught of tiny crystals that arched from the diamond encasing the princess. It died, and the spawning portals were a little slow to register the deaths of so many of the constructs, giving her a few moments peace. It allowed her to look up at the crowds.

They were screaming, hollering, jumping.

All for her.

She smiled, her beautiful princess smile, dusted some nonexistent dirt from her dress and folded her hands across her stomach elegantly. Her eyes fell across Samus in the masses, eyes bright, grin splitting her face, Peach beside her, screaming like a child and jumping up and down. The other princess was waving her arms wildly, laughing and slapping Marth beside her repeatedly in her excitement. The icy prince looked elated. Zelda rarely saw him smile, but when he did. It actually meant something.

She felt the wraiths closing in again.

She smiled, and arrogantly curtsied to the crowd, ignoring the impending danger. The wraiths leapt. The sudden smoke started at Zelda's feet, engulfing her in a sparkling black and red cloud which swept upwards onto the platform above. It fell away, leaving a white mist that glittered and shimmered in the aurora of Final Destination.

Sheik stepped from the ashes.

The match was finished quickly. She flooded the opposition with ease, completely obliterating the wraiths that had entered the stage. Sheik was like lightning. Lunging and slipping, alternating easily between sweeping strides and powerful collisions, taking the dwindling few to a definitive zero; Sheik was a phenomenon.

When the dust settled and the warrior strode out of the arena, bandages falling away at her heels, Zelda was almost overrun by smashers. Well. Overrun meant that Marth, Peach and Samus were waiting for her.

"See? She's not dead."

Marth ignored Samus, instead tugging Zelda into a hug. "Well done sweetheart. Very well done!" he carried on chattering away about how good she had gotten, but Peach soon stopped that. The princess grabbed his shoulder, forcibly tugged him away, and braced both hands on either of Zelda's shoulders. The princess looked almost frightening, but then the tension suddenly burst.

"Oh my God!"

She was sobbing, laughing, hugging and pawing at Zelda saying how worried she was, how well Zelda had done, how that she had inspired her, then wandered off screeching and waving her arms. Marth followed, but not like that. He gave Zelda a small smile, Samus a small wave, said he was off to find Pit and Ike, and left with a sweep of his cape.

"Well Princess. I think that was a fine performance."

"Thank you, Sam. It was a great idea to sign up for the Pits."

The Pits were a smasher term for the endless brawls, where a contestant fought against hordes of enemies. They were usually places where fighters like Ike, Link, Ganon, and the other, hardier of the fighters let off steam, trained and predominantly showed off.

However, it also held a certain danger to it. The Pits were open throughout the tournament, and weren't supplied with healing items or the typical defence systems that the real matches were. It meant that damage done on the stage was its usual amount of damage. A stab to the gut, a fall from the stage, a brawl finishing move. All were crippling. Last year Captain Falcon had to resign early because of a bad run in the Pits.

"What can I say? I'm a genius. But I'll tell you something, Zellie."

The elf cocked her head.

"It took some steel to get out of the Pits without a serious injury; especially for a first timer. You made a statement today, and people, especially the more brutish fighters like Bowser, will get that. They see you mean business. You have to be ready for when they come to make a name for themselves. Most of them are here for the same thing, carve a lineage out of other peoples remains."

Samus laid a gloved hand on a paled Zelda's shoulder.

"And who else to get them on their knees but a Princess?"

Zelda grimaced, but understood the sentiment. It was a Samus-Pep-Talk.

Infamous, and incredibly awe inspiring. "How did you make me sound like a tyrant?"

Samus smiled, all teeth, "You did that with that cute little curtsey you did before you crushed those poor bastards!"

* * *

It was week three. Already, the contestants had been whittled down to half. Bowser had capitalised over DK in a monstrous battle of titans, and when the huge turtle launched the gargantuan ape off the side of a sky scraper and into the abyss below the stage, the behind the scenes almost turned wild zoo rescue. It was almost insane how angry the huge furry critter got, and managed to trash most of the spawning platforms that sent a brawler from the back rooms to the fighting stages.

Pit had somehow managed to defeat Diddy Kong, although he did whine about a few monkey-bites for a good few hours afterwards. Samus was silent when she won against Luigi, and Mario was so disheartened that Snake was actually remorseful when he slew the tiny plumber. Peach had managed to K.O Jiggly Puff, and when Zelda asked about it, she shrugged and said he tripped on a turnip and fell off.

Picachu was ruthless in his fight against Ness, although they still played football with each other afterwards. Wario decimated R.O.B, and Marth danced his way past the Pokemon Trainer. Meta-knight's fight against King Dede was phenomenal, especially when the dark ball swept completely past Dede's defences and cut him from beak to flippers, sending him careering off the Norfair stage. Falco and Fox gave each other a high five when they defeated the Ice Climbers and the notorious Yoshi, respectively. The little green dino had been exhausted after his cruel brawl in the pits the previous day, and Falco acknowledged that. He told him that he was looking forward to a fair fight, next year.

Game and Watch was crushed under Ganon's boot, and Olimar fell to Link's master blade. Lucario defeated Sonic, to which the loudmouthed hedgehog was inconsolable. The only thing that kept him from mass destruction was that there were several tournaments, this wasn't his last shot. Toon Link knocked Kirby into next week, and Ike seemed rather ashamed when he defeated little Lucas.

Zelda's match was the last one before the next round.

She was fighting a three-way match. She gulped, and tugged on her braids.

It was going to be hard.

It was against Captain Falcon and Wolf. Two of the hardest smashers in the business. Zelda felt the tiny movement, and her almond eyes shot to the tiny black mass.

Meta-knight.

The tiny ball tugged his cape around himself, sharp eyes staring up at her from backstage. She was about to step up onto the platform to be sent to the fighting stage, but the little man coughed. "Crush them like bugs, Princess. Make them regret ever underestimating you."

The knight bowed slightly, and with a sudden sweep, was walking out into the neighbouring hallway. Most likely to watch the match.

Zelda felt her guts shudder. Meta-knight never talked to her. She guessed he was much more observant than he let on. By the looks of things, her stroll through the Pits earned her more than just a little respect. She gulped.

She stepped up onto the platform.

* * *

Captain Falcon was fast. Very fast.

He was on her first, eyes hidden behind his visor, helmet gleaming in Battlefield's sunshine. His fist is hard, but she never feels it. She slips aside, dancing around him, and then she's behind him, and launching herself away from the racer. His head swivels, and she sees the reflection in his helmet. She ducks, and the wolverine leaps over her head by inches. He lands like a wildcat, launching himself straight at the Captain, keeping his momentum and barrelling into the larger man.

Then she feels it. The magic. It pulses behind her eyes, and suddenly she has both hands encased in a powerful electric mist, and she's the one shoving through them, sending them flying, whirling around to face them dusting themselves off. How many times had someone beaten her into the ground? How many times was she forced to look up from the dirt? Too many.

_Make them regret it._

Wolf fired his gun. Nayru's love. She sent it careering off towards Captain Falcon. The Captain growled and ducked around the energy bullet. The man had barely turned around to face her again before a resounding thunk made the crowd reel. Zelda's boot collided with his head, and the Captain flew. Wolf ducked, and the racer landed hard on the other side of the stage, barely managing to not fall off the edge of the stage's tiled floor.

Then the game stepped up.

Zelda was punched, kicked, scratched. It was animalistic, and eventually she couldn't hear anything but the two of them, the savage wolf and the brutal racer. She held her own throughout. But when Captain Falcon's kick goes straight through a smash ball, its game over.

His car appears, and Zelda thinks the worst. But then, her heart thunders, and she's dropping away from him. And the car hits wolf. But Zelda is clinging to the edge of the platform, and Wolf is sent careering off the side to become a horrible red flash. With a heave, Zelda is pulling herself up onto the stage again; she's standing, staring at the Captain through her almond eyes, seeing how shocked he is. Sees him stand up a little straighter, sees him applaud her. She also sees his stubble when she grabs him by his ridiculous spandex. She screams, the lightning courses through her, he screams back. He breaks the hold, and she all but bitch-slaps him with an enchanted hand. He reels back, and she feels the burn of the man's punch landing in her gut. She shoves herself up and off his fist, and lashes out with her own. He staggers back, and then he's firing at her with a super-scope.

Naryu's love, he's running from the light-bullets that are pelted back at him.

But she's already behind him. The green ribbons that seem to always accompany Fayore's Wind was fluttering around her badly ruined dress, and her hands were aglow with a hostile magic that made the Captain's face pale. She didn't see much of his face that time, since he was sent flying. He barely managed to make it back, this time.

Captain Falcon tugged himself onto the stage, feeling sweat pour from his head, his cheeks, and his panting. He's fighting a _princess_, and she's left him practically gasping for breath. Shit. He looks up, pushes himself up off his knees, and he wishes for a moment, that he had respected her power earlier.

The light arrow pierces his chest, and by god, it never hurt more.

* * *

When he wakes up, she's at his bedside, eyes closed, slightly snoring.

He wasn't in pain, which made his suspicions grow.

The Princess wasn't a bitch. He couldn't hate her. She won fair and square.

The bitch.


End file.
